


On the Subject of Endowments

by ladylapislazuli



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: FE3H Kinkmeme, First Time, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Size Kink, Switching, The Massive Royal Wang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27430942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladylapislazuli/pseuds/ladylapislazuli
Summary: “Too big,” Felix mutters under his breath, seemingly to himself. “How big can it be?”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 63
Kudos: 348





	On the Subject of Endowments

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for this beautiful prompt on the kinkmeme:
> 
>  _because he is so fucking big, dimitri resigned himself to never getting his dick wet. thankfully, felix is determined and not a coward._ https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=1279964#cmt1279964
> 
> Here it is in its final form, tidied up a bit and also renamed from its previous (and subtle) title, 'Dimitri's monster cock'. I made the change for reasons of decency when scrolling AO3, but I regret nothing.
> 
> -
> 
>  **CONTENT WARNINGS:** Self-esteem issues and bodily insecurity. Also big warning for cringe. So much cringe.

The thing about Dimitri’s cock is that it’s big.

A lot of men make similar claims, he knows, and with little to back them up. Something to brag about, a competition, a way to talk themselves up and put others down. It’s a competition that Dimitri, completely by accident and decidedly not willingly, has won without even trying.

For many years, Dimitri didn’t realise that what he had between his legs was unusual. He hadn’t seen anybody else’s, and he kept his privates, well, private. He had no reason to suspect that anything was amiss. He made sure to wear tunics over tight trousers – really, he wasn’t sure how other people managed to fit their package into their pants without looking indecent, because Dimitri certainly couldn’t – but it didn’t occur to him that it was in any way… different.

That is, until one memorable day when the boys at the academy were handing around pornography. Stifling laughter behind their hands as they took turns leering at it, and Dimitri meant to scold them about possession of indecent material in broad daylight but he was too embarrassed to say it, and too embarrassed to _show_ them he was embarrassed, and long story short…

He saw it. A picture of a man and a woman, naked and clearly enjoying themselves, with a very clear illustration of the man’s penis.

 _Eight inches at least. Massive. Monster cock,_ he heard the other boys whispering.

Dimitri thought they were joking at first. Making fun of the man in the image, because having a small penis was bandied about as an insult often enough. He thought they were being sarcastic.

They were not being sarcastic.

That was Dimitri’s first clue, but only the first of many. Because Dimitri grows older. Grows… well, not more experienced, distracted as he is by both his duties and revenge, but those _around_ him grow more experienced. And they talk about sex in increasingly frank detail, without adolescent embarrassment masking their opinions. They make crude jokes and gestures with actual _knowledge_ behind them, and Dimitri slowly pieces together the facts.

Most penises, Dimitri learns, are around five inches when fully erect. Five inches. Seven inches is big, and any bigger and people begin to have trouble… well, fitting. Eight, nine inches – a considerable challenge, surmountable only by the most intrepid and determined of lovers.

Dimitri’s cock is bigger still. Much, _much_ bigger. Very long and very, very thick.

It’s nothing to brag about. It’s a _problem_. Because it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Dimitri is _too_ big. Big enough that he struggles to fit a single hand around himself, though his hands aren’t exactly small. Big enough that sex just isn’t _feasible_.

Dimitri isn’t the best choice of romantic partner for a lot of reasons. _Impossibly large penis_ is just one more thing to add to the list.

For a long time, Dimitri is resigned to it. Resigned to a single life. Rebuilding after the war, but… too damaged. Too damaged for a relationship. Too damaged for love. And put in that light, the size of his penis hardly matters. His bed is empty, and would be empty even with a normal-sized cock. Nothing to be done about – it is just how things are.

But the world keeps moving, as it always does. Time goes on, and things change. Dimitri and Felix change. Become, not just friends again, but something decidedly _more_.

And suddenly Dimitri’s over-sized penis becomes a great, looming problem.

\- - -

It all starts out very simple. Just kisses, tentative and shy on both sides. A touch here, a brush of a hand there. Careful, both feeling each other out. Then kisses become embraces, breathless and heady and clinging to each other, addictive and all-consuming. Bolder, ever bolder, but still ultimately chaste. Felix’s hand on Dimitri’s back, on his waist, over his heart. Chaste, for all that Dimitri’s heart is racing.

But they progress. Felix’s hands wander. They dip below the polite curve of Dimitri’s spine, inching towards his backside. They trail down Dimitri’s chest when they’re kissing, brushing his pecs. Felix squeezes Dimitri’s knee when they are sitting together, then an inch higher, then higher _again_ , making his way steadily up Dimitri’s thigh. Piece by piece, little by little, unravelling the boundaries between them.

Dimitri isn’t any better. Aches for the warm press of Felix’s body against his own. Pushes Felix up against the wall so he can hitch Felix’s legs around his waist, taking his weight, holding all of him. Kissing him over and over until they’re both panting for air, and no matter how often Dimitri does it he can’t bear to _stop_.

Things don’t stay chaste forever. They can’t, with how much Dimitri wants to touch Felix, unable to get enough of him. Can’t, because somehow Felix is even _hungrier_.

But Dimitri has a problem. A definite, undeniable problem. And every time things start to get too steamy, he abruptly pulls away.

Dimitri’s cock is far, far too big. Embarrassingly, even grotesquely so. Too big to be of any use, no matter how much Dimitri wants it to be.

And Dimitri does. He really, really does. Dimitri wants Felix _so badly_. Every crude whisper and titillating rumour he’s heard over the course of his lifetime whirls through his head. All the things they could do together, if only…

No. Dimitri’s own hand isn’t big enough for his cock, there’s no way it’s fitting anywhere else. Dimitri is resigned to it. He’s looked at more pornography in recent years – he’s a grown man, it is perfectly natural, even if he still finds such open expression embarrassing – and none of the men in any drawing or poem or novel even begin to compare in size. Dimitri’s never measured accurately – what would be the point? – but in all the literature people start crying at a mere nine inches.

Dimitri is easily eleven inches hard. _Easily_.

He’s a monster. Penises aren’t supposed to be this big. And he has _no idea_ how to tell Felix about it. Felix who, by all indications, is very interested in getting into bed with him and experiencing Dimitri’s penis first-hand.

So Dimitri holds off. Keeps things chaste – or as close to chaste as he can make them, given his own weakness and wandering hands. He withdraws when things become too heated - pulls away, rolls off, nudges Felix backwards - and Felix backs off without question. Accepts Dimitri’s hesitation without so much as a blink. Assuming, perhaps, that Dimitri is just shy.

Dimitri sort of wishes Felix would ask. Is simultaneously deeply grateful he hasn’t, because there’s no easy way to say _my penis is too big_ without instantly imploding out of sheer mortification. The most Felix ever asks him is ‘is this all right?’ or ‘can I?’, and the answer to both of those questions is usually an easy ‘yes’.

Dimitri tries. He really does. But he’s a weak man, and his resolution of chastity dissolves one evening when Felix is sitting in his lap, kissing his way down Dimitri’s throat, and Dimitri can’t _take_ it anymore.

He ends up pinning Felix to the couch, fully clothed as they rub desperately against each other. Too far gone for kissing, panting into each other’s mouths, and the _sounds_ Felix makes are enough to make Dimitri’s toes curl.

Dimitri is so hard it’s painful. His tunic is rucked up but his trousers aren’t _big_ enough to contain the full length of him, and he’s agonisingly constricted but he can’t _stop_. He pants and groans as he grinds his hips against Felix’s – inelegant, desperate, entirely undignified but totally beyond caring. Felix is clawing at him, grasping, grabbing Dimitri’s ass and yanking him down even harder, grinding up as Dimitri grinds down.

Dimitri’s caught between pain and pleasure, hurtling towards the precipice, and there’s no stopping now.

“Oh – ah, _Dimitri_ ,” Felix moans, head thrown back in pleasure, and his hips jerk up in just the right way and he’s moaning Dimitri’s name, _Dimitri’s_ , and –

Dimitri hurtles over the edge, shuddering and gasping his pleasure, coming in long, thick spurts and utterly heedless off the mess he’s making of his trousers. He hears Felix curse – shocked, breathless – then Felix is biting down on Dimitri’s shoulder to muffle the groan that leaves his lips, hips jerking and grinding erratically up into Dimitri’s as he comes too – and Dimitri’s too sensitive, now, but it’s so good, _so good_ , nothing could ever be as good as this.

They collapse into each other, after. Despite the damp mess cooling between them, the total disarray of their clothes. Felix kisses Dimitri – sloppy, lazy, messier than usual – languid and satisfied.

“Hn,” Felix says – a happy noise, not one of disdain. He kisses Dimitri again, long and lingering, pushing Dimitri’s hair back from his face.

“Mm,” Dimitri agrees. Trying to shift the worst of his weight off of Felix without actually having to get off him. It feels _good_ to be close to him like this. To bask in the afterglow, loose-limbed, even though he’ll have to get up soon to deal with the massive wet spot before it soaks through.

“Mm,” Felix repeats. Then, entirely unprompted, and without any warning at all, “You’re big.”

Dimitri freezes. He’s being careful not to crush Felix, and like this they’re practically nose to nose. Not towering over him, not hard to reach. So Felix can only mean -

Of course Felix felt him through his pants. Of course he did, that was the point. He didn’t touch Dimitri’s bulge with his hands – Dimitri tugged them away whenever he tried, and Felix seemed perfectly content to stop trying once Dimitri pressed their hips together and started moving – but he still would have _felt_ him.

So – Dimitri freezes. Then realises, by Felix’s startled frown, that wasn’t the response Felix was expecting.

“Uh… yes,” Dimitri says cautiously.

“What are you making that face for?”

It’s as good an opening as any. And he and Felix have just been intimate, after all, even if they kept their clothes on. It’s not _unreasonable_ for Felix to be confused.

Dimitri still panics. He can feel his expression contorting. Knows it looks bad by the answering look on Felix’s face.

“It’s – it’s nothing,” Dimitri tries. He makes to pull away, but Felix tugs him firmly back down.

The wet spot is frankly unpleasant now Dimitri’s crashing down from his high. Felix must be equally uncomfortable, but he ignores it.

“Dimitri,” Felix says.

“It’s… my…” Oh saints, Dimitri can’t say it. He _has_ to say it. “I am big. As you – as you pointed out.”

Another frown. “And?”

“ _Too_ big,” Dimitri says, and Felix snorts. Gives Dimitri an unimpressed look, though it’s considerably softer than usual – Felix still looks slightly dazed, and Dimitri feels a surge of pride at that before he remembers he has other things to think about. Namely the fact that Felix isn’t _getting it_. “I am not joking, Felix. It is… a problem.”

There. He’s said it. And Felix hasn’t run away yet, though it’s not the ringing endorsement it might otherwise be, because Felix looks like he doesn’t _believe_ him.

“ _Too big_ ,” Felix mutters under his breath, seemingly to himself. “How big can it be?”

\- - -

Which leads to Dimitri’s present situation. Lying on the bed with Felix between his thighs, his trousers pulled only part of the way down before Felix stopped dead.

Felix is just… staring. Staring, with his mouth hanging open, and a look in his eyes that speaks distinctly of panic.

“Uh – wow,” Felix says at length.

Dimitri can’t take it anymore. He covers his face with both hands, unable to look.

“Are you – are you fully hard yet?”

No, most definitely not. Dimitri’s very soul is shrivelling under the scrutiny, let alone his penis.

He shakes his head mutely.

“Can I touch it?”

Dimitri considers. Part of him wants desperately to pull his pants back up and slink out of there, ideally into a swamp or conveniently placed river where he can sink slowly beneath the surface and never return. But he wants Felix. Wants to _be_ with Felix, both now and… and in the future, though he hasn’t said it aloud yet.

Might as well find out now, then, if they can’t make it work. Better now than later.

“Hey.” Felix’s hands, to Dimitri’s surprise, are nowhere near his penis. They come up to pry his own hands from his face, and Dimitri lets them be tugged away, though he can’t do much to hide his abject misery. It’s radiating out of his very being.

Felix snorts – familiar. Cups Dimitri’s face in his hand and leans down for a kiss, also familiar.

“Stop making that face,” Felix tells him. Dimitri just grimaces, and Felix’s eyes do the thing they sometimes do that never fails to steal the breath from Dimitri’s lungs. They go dark and mesmerising, so intense it feels like Felix is reading the very heart of him, and Felix leans down to press another kiss to Dimitri’s lips. Tugs Dimitri’s bottom lip between his teeth, teasing it. “Mm. You’re gorgeous.”

Dimitri startles. Felix just huffs and kisses him again, and again, and _again_. Dimitri gets lost in it. Forgets his worries entirely as Felix pulls back to lavish kisses along his jaw, down his throat, as one of his hands wanders the expanse of Dimitri’s chest – stripped down just to his undershirt, but not for long. Strong, callused fingers work the remaining buttons open one by one.

Felix is still interested, then. He hasn’t run away. He still likes Dimitri, still wants to be here.

Felix pulls back to look at him only once the last button is undone. Felix’s breathing is rapid, his pupils dilated. He stares, smoothing the fabric off of Dimitri’s chest like a man unwrapping a gift.

Dimitri feels himself flush, both under the scrutiny and the realisation he’s just been… well, just lying there. At some point his hands strayed to Felix’s waist, toying with his belt, but he’s barely done anything. Just laid back and let Felix take the lead.

Felix, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care. He makes a low noise somewhere deep in his throat as he pushes Dimitri’s shirt back, and then he’s kissing Dimitri again. Groaning into his mouth, his hand squeezing Dimitri’s pecs, brushing over Dimitri’s nipples. And Dimitri isn’t particularly sensitive there but Felix’s obvious appreciation makes him go hot all over. Felix is grabbing at everything within reach, touching him like Dimitri’s never been touched, and all of a sudden Felix is reeling back to yank his own shirt haphazardly over his head, tossing it off the bed without a care in the world.

He’s gorgeous. _Gorgeous_. Lithe and muscular and strong. Felix doesn’t give Dimitri long to look – he’s pressing his bare chest down against Dimitri’s, slamming their mouths together with an urgency that sparks lightning up Dimitri’s spine. Makes his belly tighten, his heartbeat go wild, his cock swell -

His cock. Therein lies the problem.

Reality hits Dimitri like a bucket of cold water. He’s lying flat on his back with his shirt open and his pants pulled halfway down, his too-big cock just… _there_ , for all the world to see. Dimitri goes rigid again, and not in a good way.

Felix groans. Pulls back so he can look Dimitri in – well, not in the eye, but in the general direction of his face. Dimitri’s avoiding his gaze as much as possible. Because Felix’s reaction has not – well, it has not been as bad as it could have been. Surprise, a little panic. They’re currently in the safe zone, with Felix touching everywhere _but_ Dimitri’s cock, but Dimitri isn’t even fully hard right now.

It only gets bigger. Bigger, and more intimidating, and more impossible to do – whatever Felix is thinking of doing with it. (Dimitri really, really wants to do whatever Felix is thinking of doing with it.)

But he can’t. He means to tell Felix as much, but then his eye catches on the obvious bulge in Felix’s pants, and his mouth goes dry. Dimitri’s barely even touched him and Felix’s cock is straining against the fabric.

Seiros. He’s _gorgeous_. Dimitri feels almost light-headed as blood rushes to his cock. He grabs a pillow and shoves it down over his crotch.

“What’s wrong?” Felix says. Trying to sound patient, but his voice is so gravelly he misses the mark. He sits back on his heels, giving Dimitri space, though he doesn’t go far. He runs his hands back and forth over the bare flesh of Dimitri’s thighs - the little strip peeking through the gap between pillow and the trousers still halfway down Dimitri’s legs.

Dimitri really should do something about those trousers. He should do something about a lot of things.

He takes a breath. “Felix, listen. I know my… situation isn’t ideal, and it makes certain things… well, difficult-”

Felix snorts, cutting him off before he gets any further. “A lot of people would kill for a cock like yours, you know that? Stop being an idiot.” From anyone else, it would be a dismissive response, but this is Felix. Felix, who immediately follows the statement up with, “Can we go back to kissing now?”

It… oh. Oh. Dimitri is a weak man – his reservations fly entirely out of his head. He nods, and Felix practically lunges at him, moaning the instant he makes contact with Dimitri’s mouth.

It takes a few minutes for anything to go wrong again. A few aching, blissful minutes of Felix on top of Dimitri, kissing him stupid while Dimitri fumbles to undo his belt. Dimitri’s fingers brush against the hard length in Felix’s pants and Felix groans. Gasps right into Dimitri’s mouth when Dimitri, in an unexpected surge of daring, abandons the belt entirely and reaches down to cup Felix through the material.

Dimitri has no real plan in mind. But Felix bucks into his palm, and Dimitri can _feel_ him. And it turns out it’s one thing to see it, another thing entirely to feel Felix’s still-covered cock straining into his hand, practically begging for attention. Dimitri rubs, applying just the barest amount of pressure, and Felix groans again.

“ _Dimitri_ ,” he says. He seems to think Dimitri is teasing him – and maybe he is – because Felix nips at his bottom lip again. Smooths his tongue over it when Dimitri jolts, pressing his eager hips more firmly into Dimitri’s palm.

It’s great. It’s amazing. They’re having a wonderful time, is the point. The pillow in Dimitri’s lap is completely ruined – he’s hard and wet and aching beneath it – but he’s having the time of his life.

But then Felix pulls back. Strays down the bed, out of Dimitri’s reach.

“Uh, Felix?” Dimitri’s never heard his voice like this. Rough and low, and he sees Felix shiver. Not enough to distract Felix from his path.

“Mm?” Felix settles between Dimitri’s thighs. Tugs Dimitri’s pants off the rest of the way, though Dimitri clings to the pillow still covering his cock.

“What are – what are you doing?”

Felix gives him a pointed look. Reaches out to touch the pillow, though he doesn’t try to tug it away.

“Don’t be shy. You’re being ridiculous.”

Dimitri wonders what it says about him that he finds Felix’s brusqueness so soothing. He inhales a shuddering breath and, cheeks burning, removes the pillow.

A beat. Then another. Felix stares.

Dimitri is hard, now, swelled up to his full, impossible size. Felix blinks once, twice. He looks like he’s having trouble comprehending what he’s seeing, and Dimitri seriously considers rolling off the bed and leaping right through the window, glass and all.

But then Felix’s jaw firms, and he wraps a hand around him. Begins to stroke, tentative at first, then his grip tightens. He throws Dimitri a look – cocky, challenging, even _playful_ – and heat pools in Dimitri’s belly. His hips jerk up into Felix’s touch, unbidden.

Oh, Goddess, Felix’s _hand_.

It’s not big enough to wrap the full way around him. But Felix strokes him, long and languid and teasing, and all the breath stutters out of Dimitri. Felix’s eyes are fixed on the motion, tracing the vein all the way up to the reddened, weeping tip. Sweeping his hand across the sensitive head in a way that makes Dimitri jolt.

Then Felix says, “I want to suck you off,” right as Dimitri’s getting into it.

Dimitri abruptly goes still. He looks at his cock. Looks at Felix’s mouth – a beautiful, eminently kissable mouth, but a mouth of an ordinary size. Looks back at his cock again.

“I don’t think that will work.”

Felix’s eyes narrow. His grip tightens, and Dimitri gasps. “Watch me.”

Despite his confidence, things quickly derail from there. Again. Like they have _every time_ they’ve started to enjoy themselves, just in the space of this evening.

It starts off well enough – Felix gripping Dimitri’s cock in both hands, leaning over to breathe on the tip, his loose hair brushing the shaft of Dimitri’s cock and his amber eyes fixed on Dimitri’s face, and Dimitri has to take several deep breaths to stop himself from spending then and there.

But then they get to the part where Felix opens his mouth as wide as he can, trying to figure out an angle – _any_ angle – where he can fit Dimitri inside it, head turning this way and that, and Dimitri’s excitement quickly cools in favour of mortification again.

He covers his face with his hands again, groaning.

“Felix, please, it won’t…”

“It _will_. I just need to practice.”

Felix is stubborn, which is hardly a surprise. But Dimitri sees the realisation dawning on his face. That Dimitri wasn’t joking about his cock being too big, and no amount of determination on Felix’s part is going to change that.

Felix doesn’t laugh, and he doesn’t run away. He doesn’t even stop trying to handle Dimitri’s cock, though he has to take a break to rub at his overstretched jaw. He keeps repositioning his head, but even when he manages to get the tip in his mouth his _teeth_ are in the way, and Dimitri jolts with something that decidedly isn’t pleasure.

“Sorry, sorry,” Felix mutters as he pulls back for the fourth time. He makes no indication that he’d like to retreat – if anything, the look on his face gets even _more_ determined. Felix is looking at Dimitri’s cock – his _cock_ – with the same intimidating focus he gives his opponents in the ring.

“Felix,” Dimitri says. It’s all so absurd that a laugh bursts out of him. There’s no point being disappointed – he knew his cock was too big. He knew. “It’s fine. Please, just – come back here.”

He holds out his arms. Felix looks like he’d like to argue, but then he takes a look at Dimitri’s face and relents.

“Fine,” he says, “but I’m not done with you.”

Dimitri’s heart blooms and blossoms in his chest. Felix crawls back up and presses down on top of him, reaching down to wrap one of Dimitri’s thighs around his waist and planting his arms either side of Dimitri’s head. A clear assertion that _I’m still in charge right now_.

That’s all right by Dimitri. Felix is still _here_. Still wants him, even with Dimitri’s limitations. Felix kisses him hard, but Dimitri’s answering kiss is softer. He lets himself reach out. Lets himself touch Felix, as he scarcely dared to before.

Dimitri’s cock is too big for much. Felix can be as stubborn as he likes – it’s not going to work. But being close to Felix, having him in _any_ way… it’s enough.

\- - -

It’s enough for Dimitri, anyway. Felix absolutely and categorically does not get the message.

They barely make it to Felix’s chambers the next time around. Dimitri’s spent all day thinking about Felix, his lips, his chest, his thighs and arms and _everything_ , even with all his duties and all the work he’s needed to do. He’s been helplessly, impossibly distracted.

Felix hasn’t run away. Despite their somewhat disastrous first attempts, despite the impossibility of… well, a lot of things, given what Dimitri’s working with. Felix hasn’t lost interest. Felix still _wants_ him.

He wants him a lot, apparently. The second Dimitri is in the door, Felix shoves it shut behind him, pinning Dimitri up against it with his body weight and all but slamming their mouths together he’s so desperate to kiss him.

“Fe-”

It’s the most Dimitri manages to get out. One of Felix’s hands is fumbling with the lock, the other sliding into Dimitri’s hair, tugging at it in a way that sparks heat all the way down in Dimitri’s groin, and whatever else he meant to say is cut off by a groan.

But then Felix pulls suddenly, agonisingly away. Muttering a curse under his breath, still trying to slide the lock into place, and Dimitri doesn’t think.

He grabs him. He just grabs him, and now it’s Felix pressed up against the wall, but Dimitri is thinking with the wrong head entirely and underestimates his own strength, as well as the size difference between them.

Felix is a strong man. Muscular, sturdy, lethal. But Dimitri is taller than him, and quite possibly one of the strongest men alive. Doesn’t think, doesn’t think at all, when he tugs Felix into a position where Dimitri can kiss him more easily. Shoves his thigh between Felix’s legs and lifts him _up_ , pinning him with Dimitri’s body weight, holding him clear off the floor.

He just wants to kiss him easier. Kiss him without getting a crick in his neck, and, admittedly, he’s being impatient about it.

Felix makes a strangled noise, his entire body going rigid, legs dangling either side of Dimitri’s thigh. Staring at him, lips parted, eyes wide. And Dimitri realises, with a horrified jolt, that he’s been _rough_. He met demanding with demanding – or at least he thought he did. But it strikes him, like a bucket of ice being poured over him, that he might have been _aggressive_ , which is entirely different and not at all acceptable, even in play.

“Sorry, sorry,” he stammers out. Backing off at once. Setting Felix down carefully, so carefully, and Felix sways and blinks at him like a man in a daze.

Dimitri takes a step backwards. Felix blinks again, lips still parted. His eyes trail down to Dimitri’s retreating feet, stunned. Come back up again, suddenly sharp and blazing.

“Come _here_ ,” he demands.

If this were a novel or a play or an opera, Dimitri would fall back into his arms and lose himself in desperate passion.

But Dimitri dithers. Nervous again, despite Felix’s clear indication of interest, because Dimitri made a mistake and he has yet to learn the knack of brushing them off quickly.

He’s not a very good lover. He’s panicking about it already, and this is _before_ his over-sized cock enters the equation.

“Come here,” Felix says again. Lower, quieter. Offering his hands, and why he’s so willing to put up with this Dimitri has no idea. Felix isn’t exactly known for his patience, is decisive in all he does, not liable to scream and run away even when Dimitri’s monstrous member almost dislocates his jaw.

But he’s still holding out his hands. So Dimitri takes them. Lets Felix lead the way again, kissing him, touching him, running his hands down Dimitri’s back, tipping Dimitri’s jaw to the side so he can kiss him deeper. He leads until the backs of Dimitri’s knees hit the bed. Dimitri sits, but Felix just keeps kissing him, Dimitri’s jaw cradled in both his hands, angling Dimitri’s head upwards. Dimitri’s arms wind around him, hands tracing the small of his back, the slender lines of his waist, his heart beating and beating in his chest.

It is, all things considered, a very romantic moment. And Dimitri temporarily forgets that Felix is as liable to ruin those with his stubbornness as Dimitri is to ruin passionate ones with his fits of anxiety.

It’s all going too well again. Their blip forgotten. Their desperate fumbling softened in favour of something warm and lingering, a quieter, simmering need. Felix’s hands caressing his face, Dimitri holding Felix close, so utterly in love he doesn’t know how his body contains all he feels for Felix.

But then Felix pulls back. Sinks, with an all-too-familiar look of steely determination, into a kneeling position between Dimitri’s spread thighs.

“ _Felix_ ,” Dimitri groans. Felix isn’t even looking at him. He’s staring at Dimitri’s clothed crotch like it’s a personal challenge. Brow furrowing, lips firming.

He cracks his knuckles. He _cracks_ his _knuckles_.

“I told you I wasn’t finished with you,” he says. To Dimitri’s _penis_.

Dimitri falls back against the bed. Puts a hand over his face, and he can actually feel the heat in his cheeks.

“I just need practice,” Felix says, and he sounds so confident that Dimitri almost believes him.

He wants to believe him. Gets caught up, as he always does, in the fruitless, hopeless wish that he had a normal-sized penis capable of ordinary sexual acts. Because despite himself, he can feel himself rapidly hardening. Excited, so excited, by the thought of Felix’s mouth on him, even if logic tells him it’s impossible.

He looks down. Felix’s hands stroke up Dimitri’s thighs, up to his waistband. Waiting for permission. And when Dimitri nods, Felix’s eyes go very, very dark. He unfastens Dimitri’s trousers.

The smouldering doesn’t last long. It’s replaced all-too-quickly with Felix’s focused, analytical face, him tipping his head back and forth in strange jerky movements as he tries to find an accessible angle.

To his considerable credit, he manages to get most of the tip into his mouth without biting anything, but it’s no easy task. His jaw audibly cracks. His eyes are watering, but no sooner has he gagged and pulled back then he’s trying _again_.

Felix is a stubborn man. Relentless in his pursuit of physical perfection, and it’s one of his most admirable features. But there is desire, and then there is physical reality, and unless Felix learns to unhinge his jaw like a serpent this is _not going to work_.

“ _Felix_ ,” Dimitri pleads. Mortified, fighting the urge to pull his pants back up. Being on the receiving end of Felix’s tenacity feels very different when all that focus is directed at the most intimate part of Dimitri’s anatomy.

It’s his _penis_. That cannot be stated clearly enough. Felix is staring down Dimitri’s very own personal, private penis like it’s issued him a formal challenge, and if spontaneous combustion were an option Dimitri would already be on fire.

“I’ll do it. You wait and see,” Felix says darkly.

Dimitri’s can’t help it. He covers his face with both his hands and laughs.

\- - -

Felix doesn’t give up. Felix never gives up. But he does - after several more attempts to put Dimitri’s cock in his mouth end in mutually embarrassing failures - grudgingly agree to divert his attention elsewhere.

“You’re ridiculous,” he tells Dimitri, even as his eyes are watering and he’s rubbing at his poor overworked jaw.

“I keep telling you it’s not going to work.” Dimitri sounds every bit as miserable as he feels, and Felix relents.

He crawls up the bed, leaving Dimitri’s ridiculous penis alone at last. Kisses Dimitri and, despite himself, Dimitri relaxes into it. He always does.

“We’ll find another way, then,” Felix concedes.

And the thing is, somehow, they do.

Felix’s hands are dextrous and talented, and he’ll stroke Dimitri just right while murmuring filthy encouragement for him to come all over his taut, muscular belly. Smirking, touching him exactly as Dimitri never thought anyone would touch him, as he fantasised someone would as he took himself into his own lonely hand. Felix pins Dimitri down on the couch and rub their cocks together – an interesting logistical exercise, given the size disparity – but only proving once again that Dimitri underestimated Felix’s ingenuity. Felix slicks the space between his thighs and encourages Dimitri to take him that way, and sometimes Dimitri will shut his eyes and just _imagine_. Imagine that he’s actually inside Felix.

It’s not the same. There’s cold air on his cock no matter how tight Felix squeezes his thighs, because Dimitri is so obscenely large there’s no way around it. But it’s still good, still Felix. Dimitri comes too soon, but he’s learning how to please Felix despite his failings. Learns how to suck Felix’s cock, enthusiastic and messy, tonguing at the head and swallowing Felix down until he shouts (actually shouts – he goes bright red afterwards, but he can’t seem to stop himself doing it). Dimitri learns how to slick his fingers – just his fingers, never anything else – and drive them into that spot that makes Felix arch up off the bed.

Dimitri’s sex life isn’t lacking, is the point. Felix is better than anything Dimitri could have dreamed up – as relentless between the sheets as he is in everything else he turns his hand to – and Dimitri is honestly amazed to have him. To have Felix accept him so completely - mind, heart, and unseemly, useless cock - after all the years of strife between them.

That’s not to say his cock doesn’t still cause problems, sometimes. Because Felix, being Felix, never concedes any battle for long. And every so often he’ll get that look of determination on his face and attempt something that is absolutely _not_ going to work.

“Felix, _please_ ,” Dimitri cries after the latest attempt. It was all going so well – Dimitri sitting on the bed and Felix kneeling between his legs, stroking him with those clever, teasing hands – when Felix just had to try and stick Dimitri’s cock in his mouth again.

Felix coughs. Coughs again, one hand rubbing at his jaw while the other is slapped over his _eye,_ and is it possible to give someone a black eye with your penis? Dimitri supposes they’ll find out in the morning.

“I did better that time,” Felix says.

“Why are you so determined to put it in your mouth, anyway?” Dimitri says, mortified to the depths of his soul and hiding his wilting cock beneath the blankets. Dimitri refuses to look at it. Refuses to let _Felix_ look at it, because he almost took his own eye out with the way he lunged for it.

Felix’s cheeks go red. He climbs up onto the bed, not quite making eye contact, though his tone is as stubborn as ever. “Have you calmed down now?”

“No,” Dimitri mutters, pulling the blankets up further, though not so tightly that Felix can’t climb in with him.

He has no idea why Felix is so intent on giving him a blowjob. Or why he stares at Dimitri’s cock so much, when Dimitri tries to look at it as little as possible. To be fair, Felix stares at _all_ of Dimitri on the regular, a fact which remains as confusing as it is gratifying. Dimitri’s nothing special, but Felix is flatteringly distracted by him anyway.

Dimitri’s cock, though, is _really_ not worth looking at. Huge and red and veiny, an obscenely large lump in his pants even when he’s barely aroused. Dimitri’s just grateful Felix is willing to touch it in the first place – he absolutely wasn’t expecting Felix to work so _hard_ at this.

He thought his penis would be a deal-breaker. He really did. He’d resigned himself to it. But Felix seems to spend his life surprising Dimitri, and rather than consider it an obstacle, Felix makes it a _project_.

\- - -

“I want to try something,” becomes a common announcement from Felix.

Dimitri’s learned to go along with it. More than happy to let Felix take the lead in this, with all the focused zeal with which he approaches his – well, his swordplay, which is a feeble pun but Dimitri tells it to him anyway, and for once it’s Felix’s turn to groan and roll away.

“You’re ridiculous,” Felix says, burying his head in a pillow. “Ugh, I can’t believe you. Ruined the moment.”

Dimitri just laughs. He ruins a lot of them, but so does Felix, and Dimitri’s learning not to take it so personally. Their courtship is often messy, and ill thought out, and deeply, deeply foolish, but Felix seems happy and bit by bit, Dimitri is letting himself be happy too.

He’s letting himself… consider things. Other possibilities. Other things that they might try in bed that he hadn’t allowed himself to consider, not for any real purpose, but with some vague notion of saving himself for marriage in case anyone were ever willing to take him.

Given all they’ve done together, it seems silly to draw such arbitrary lines. Dimitri wants Felix. And somehow, though it seems impossible, Felix wants him too.

“What are you thinking of?” Dimitri murmurs, excited and nervous all at once, because he thinks he already knows.

Felix peeks up from his pillow. Sweeps his eyes over Dimitri. And after a moment, he relents.

Which is how Dimitri ends up on his stomach half an hour later, completely naked, with Felix slowly pushing his cock inside of him. Working him open inch by inch in short, stuttered thrusts that punch the breath from Dimitri’s lungs.

It feels… strange. Being penetrated, having something pushing inside him, bigger than Felix’s fingers. Burns, and the feeling of fullness is confusing. Dimitri shudders, grimacing into the pillow.

A pause. Felix’s hand on his back. Felix's voice, rough as gravel, "All right?"

Dimitri didn’t even realise he'd tensed up. Takes a breath, wilfully relaxing into the bed. Nods, and Felix keeps going until Dimitri can feel the press of his hips, realises he’s taken it all.

Dimitri is having _sex_. A rather obvious thought that comes to him with a giddiness reminiscent of his teen years, made sillier by all the things they’ve already done that probably, now he thinks of it, almost definitely count. But Dimitri is having sex.

Even with his monstrously over-sized cock. In spite of his monstrously over-sized cock.

It's still strange. Still new. But he hears Felix stifle a moan against his shoulder. Remembers that the strange foreign object inside of him is Felix’s _cock_ and feels a surge of excitement anew.

Felix goes slow, at first. Careful in this in a way he is never careful with his sharp tongue. He just rocks, giving them both time to get used to it, pressing his nose to Dimitri’s hair. His breathing is tightly constricted, and it’s that more than anything that has Dimitri grinding into the sheets, his cock trapped between his belly and the mattress, heat sparking in his belly.

Felix likes it. Felix is keeping himself under control, but Dimitri can hear the way he’s breathing, feel the flexing of his muscles as he shifts, the tremor in his hips he only gets when he’s particularly turned on. He wants it. Wants _Dimitri_.

Dimitri moans. Pushes back against him, and any sense of restraint quickly abandons them both.

Felix is on top of him, all around him, _inside_ him. And Dimitri forgets his embarrassment. Forgets anything but the friction of his cock grinding down into the mattress beneath them, the steady rhythm of Felix’s thrusts building until he finds the angle that has Dimitri urgently shoving a fist into his mouth to stop the noises leaving his mouth. The ambiguously pleasant sensation of Felix’s cock working him open transforms into shocking jolts of pleasure, and Dimitri is panting and whining and clenching his eye shut tight, unsure whether to push back or roll forward.

It’s good. It’s so, so good. And suddenly, startlingly, Dimitri is on the brink of orgasm, whole body shuddering, and it’s too soon, he can’t come yet, but he’s _about to_.  
  
"Want to see your face," Felix groans.  
  
He pulls out. Just like that. Dimitri is dazed and empty and blinking down at his pillows, a truly mortifying noise of complaint leaving him before Felix’s firm hands tug him onto his back, too stupid and distracted by the ache in his groin to do anything but let him.

And all of a sudden there’s cold air on his cock as it bobs freely between them. Right where Felix can see it. And Dimitri’s dazed urgency, the aching tightness in his belly, cools in favour of embarrassment.

It’s obscene. Dimitri doesn’t like to look at it, even on those rare occasions when he takes himself in hand, closing his eye and busying himself with the fantasies in his mind. But he looks now. Looks as Felix re-enters him, groaning.

It’s a rude shock, really. A crude reminder that Dimitri’s cock is… well, as much itself as ever. It bobs with the motion of Felix’s thrusts. Waggling freely in a decidedly unerotic display, like some sort of... of ugly sausage. Comedic at best, grotesque at worst, because penises aren’t supposed to _be_ like this.

Worst of all, Felix is _looking_ at it. Transfixed, his hips snapping forward in a way that makes Dimitri moan, despite himself. Which also, coincidentally, makes his cock flop about again.

Dimitri liked being face down. Face down is good. Face down no one risks being smacked in the face with Dimitri’s ludicrously over-sized erection, because even in this position it’s _getting in the way_.

Dimitri teeters on the edge of a decision, caught between arousal and the cold water bucket of his own embarrassment. His belly is _aching_ , drawn up so agonisingly, blissfully tight. And Felix is inside him, panting, bare chest glistening with sweat and his cock rock-hard, seemingly unperturbed by Dimitri’s unsightly arousal.

Dimitri doesn’t want to stop. He really, really doesn’t want to stop.

So he compromises. Throws his arm over his face, covering his eye so he doesn’t have to look at his cock, so he can lose himself in feeling again. Lose himself in the steady build of orgasm, his breath coming in harsh pants, toes starting to curl. Felix’s hips stutter, momentarily erratic, but then Felix gets a hand on Dimitri’s cock and Dimitri forgets all about his self-consciousness, about how stupid he must look, about anything. He bucks his hips to meet Felix’s thrusts in one moment, arching into the hand on his cock in the next, so close, so _good_. Just a bit more, just a little bit more…

Abruptly, Felix stops. Pulls most of the way out, breathing harshly. Dimitri groans, squirming on the bed for more before he remembers his dignity, flushing scarlet.

He peeks from beneath his arm. Felix is breathing too hard, expression contorted in a grimace. For a moment Dimitri thinks he’s done something wrong, but then –

Felix is too close. Trying not to come before Dimitri does. Actually, genuinely aroused by Dimitri, which he knew but also didn’t, and the thought of Felix being so turned on by him that he might spill _early_ …

Dimitri forgets his dignity again. Reaches for Felix, trying to tug him back, squirming on the bed as his cock throbs and his hole clenches around Felix’s tip, trying to draw him back in. “Felix…”

Felix doesn’t answer. Too busy taking another steadying breath, running his hands down Dimitri’s sides. Staring, of all places, at Dimitri’s _cock_.

It’s huge and red and swollen, dripping pre-come onto Dimitri’s stomach. Grotesque. But Felix keeps staring.

Dimitri slaps his arm back over his face again. Unable to look. Unable to stop his damnable squirming on the bed because he’s so close to coming that stopping is physically painful.

“ _Felix_ ,” he pleads, and Felix takes pity on him. Slides back in with a heartfelt groan of his own.

“You,” Felix pants, grip tightening on Dimitri’s cock, hips speeding up. Erratic, stuttering, teetering on the edge but Dimitri’s right there with him, he just needs more, just a little bit more. “You’re going to fuck me with this.”

It’s the shock that does it more than anything else.

Dimitri’s arm jerks away from his face. He looks, wide-eyed, at his cock, monstrously big, so big it dwarfs Felix’s hand. Looks at Felix’s handsome, stubborn face. Dimitri jolts with surprise, every muscle in his body tensing.

It’s the final straw. Dimitri clenches tight around Felix’s cock, throws back his head, and comes.

\- - -

All right. So Dimitri was wrong when he thought Felix would ever concede anything in his life. Since getting his mouth on Dimitri’s dick has proven so challenging, Felix has instead set his mind on a goal even _more_ impossible.

“You’re being ridiculous about this,” Felix tells him for the third time in as many minutes, entirely matter-of-fact. Like _Dimitri_ is the unreasonable one here. “I’m sure people with bigger dicks than you have sex all the time.”

They’re still tangled together in bed. Felix’s head is resting on Dimitri’s shoulder, his hand stroking absently at Dimitri’s belly, like he doesn’t want to stop touching him just yet.

But Dimitri is back under the blankets, covered up as a form of protest. Not, admittedly, a very effective one, but it’s kind of hard to muster the will when all his limbs feel like jelly.

Still, he cringes. He really, _really_ doesn’t want to talk about his penis. Even post-coitus, it’s still mortifying.

He doesn’t respond. Subtly inches the blanket up a bit higher, ensuring his parts are properly covered. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.

“Dimitri,” Felix says. He stops stroking Dimitri’s stomach. Leans up on one elbow, pinning Dimitri with a stare.

His hair is loose, cheeks still flushed. Dimitri’s eye traces down the line of his throat, his defined pectorals and taught belly, the dark trail of hair leading down…

Felix is perfect. All lean lines of hard muscle, every part of him proportionate in every respect. He’s the handsomest man Dimitri has ever known. Right here, in full view of Dimitri’s own… situation.

Dimitri rolls away. Tugs the blanket up higher, covering himself all the way up his chest.

He hears a sigh. “What is your _problem_?”

It could sound mean, but it isn’t. Felix doesn’t try to tug the blanket away, but drapes himself right over the top of Dimitri’s shrouded form. He wraps his muscular arm around the outside of Dimitri’s cocoon, leaning over so he can keep staring at Dimitri’s profile. Dimitri can practically feel Felix’s eyes boring judgmental holes in his skull.

Felix is as contradictory in nature as Dimitri is, in many ways.

“It’s too big,” Dimitri mumbles, then shuts his eye in wincing resignation. He cannot _believe_ that he’s talking about his penis. Talking about it. Aloud. To another human being.

“I don’t get you at all,” Felix says, and for a man so hamstrung when it comes to speaking words of affection, he’s surprisingly forthright when it comes to this kind of intimacy. “Plenty of people would kill for a cock like yours.”

“ _Why_?”

Dimitri’s ludicrous penis is completely useless. It can’t _do_ anything. It’s so stupidly big he can’t even get his own hand around it, and Dimitri’s hands are big in and of themselves. Getting his cock inside anything is an exercise in futility – but Dimitri is all right with it. As much as it is possible to be so. He resigned himself years ago, and there’s no point wishing for the impossible. His sex life is already, frankly, fantastic, and so much more than he imagined he could have.

But the thing about being a person, sometimes, is that even with all the blessings in the world, you still fixate on the rare things you lack. Dimitri knows he has a tendency to dwell. He’s dwelling now.

 _You’re going to fuck me with this,_ Felix said. But Dimitri would _break_ him. Dimitri would hurt him.

Felix is still staring at him, and Dimitri doesn’t have to make eye contact to know which one of Felix’s assorted stares it is. He has a lot of them – from _this is a waste of time_ to _you’re being stupid_ to _I’m about to challenge this moron to a duel if you don’t step in_ \- but this stare is particularly familiar. It’s the stare Felix always gives Dimitri when he thinks he’s being unfathomably unreasonable, and Felix doesn’t have the words to tell him how ridiculous he is.

Felix’s body is still draped over his. He runs a hand down Dimitri’s arm, soothing him, biting his own impatient tongue and taking a slow, fortifying breath. Well-accustomed to Dimitri’s turns of mood. Not criticising, not angry, not snapping at him like he did when they were younger.

Here. He’s still here.

“Dimitri,” he says, painstakingly slow, his patience borne of clear effort. “There is nothing wrong. With your penis.”

It would probably be more comforting if it weren’t so embarrassing. Felix is speaking to him with the teeth-gritted calm that he uses on children and animals, which somehow only makes the whole situation even more absurd.

It’s Dimitri’s _penis_. He cannot _believe_ they are having a conversation about it. That Felix – who has zero patience and even less tact when it comes to the physical insecurities of others - is _consoling_ him about it.

“Can we please stop talking about this?” Dimitri moans, burying his face in his pillow.

“When you stop being ridiculous,” Felix retorts. “Look.” He sits up in the bed. Poking and prodding until Dimitri reluctantly obliges him and rolls onto his back again. “Some people. _Prefer_ what you’ve got.”

Dimitri snorts. But out of the corner of his eye, he sees Felix’s hand come up to cover his own face. A face that, now Dimitri can stand to look at it for more than a second, is taking on a distinctive flush.

Dimitri blinks. Slowly loosens his hands where they’re defensively clenching the blanket to his chin.

Felix is blushing. Felix is just as embarrassed about this as he is. Felix said… some people _prefer_ what Dimitri…

“I…” Dimitri starts, but then it’s like something clunks loose in his brain as he tries, mostly unsuccessfully, to reconcile this new information. “Really?”

It seems preposterous, that anyone might find his disproportionate dimensions even remotely appealing. But Felix said…

Felix is positively scarlet by now, but he soldiers through his own embarrassment. Drops his hand from his face and points at Dimitri, scowling. “Yes. You’re _lucky_. I’m not going to say it again.”

Felix is still naked, still blushing, the flush reaching all the way down his bare chest. His skin is tacky with dried sweat, and his loose hair is one large tangle that he has yet to correct.

He’s a bit of a mess, really. Yet Dimitri cannot imagine loving anyone more.

Dimitri reaches out, taking Felix’s pointing hand in his own. Smiles, his heart a thousand times too big in his chest. “I am lucky.”

Felix balks, as he so often does when Dimitri says something romantic, and withdraws so fast he tumbles right over the edge of the bed.

\- - -

Dimitri’s cock might be ludicrously, monstrously big, but he’s coming to accept that Felix is determined to conquer that particular mountain.

“Are you _sure_?” Dimitri says for the hundredth time.

It’s quite impressive, actually, that he’s still got his wits about him. Felix is perched on the bed in front of him, cock shamelessly hard, rocking back onto his and Dimitri’s combined fingers. His hair is down, the muscles in his thighs tensing and flexing as he moves. He’s naked and cocky about it, all daring eyes and smirking satisfaction, a man who knows exactly how good he looks like this.

He looks, in fact, like every wet dream Dimitri’s ever had. Dimitri is panting. His cock is achingly hard, desperate to take the place of Dimitri’s fingers. He can’t stop thinking about how good it’ll feel as he stretches Felix open.

How good it _would_ feel. Might feel. If Dimitri had a normal-sized penis.

But Dimitri’s cock is… what it is. Ridiculously long and intimidatingly thick. Dimitri’s trying not to get his hopes up. Felix can be cocky all he likes, but Dimitri doesn’t want to be disappointed when – _if_ – this all goes awry. For both their sakes.

Felix still hasn’t replied, and it doesn’t look like he intends to. He eases off their fingers. Reaches for the oil jar, his chest rising and falling rapidly, fingers barely trembling as he spills oil all over his hands. Too much, perhaps, but then they’re probably going to need all the lubrication they can get.

Felix doesn’t bother to warm it. Too impatient. He wraps his hands around Dimitri’s cock, and despite the cold, Dimitri’s hips buck in anticipation.

“You’re mine,” Felix says, and Dimitri is momentarily surprised by the declaration before he realises it’s not him Dimitri is looking at.

Felix isn’t a possessive man. He’s not talking to Dimitri – he’s talking to Dimitri’s cock again, with all the blazing determination and bared teeth with which he faces his opponents in the ring. Challenging it with the same arrogant disdain that indicates he fully intends to claim the victory.

So it turns out Dimitri isn’t the only ridiculous person in this relationship. And it strikes him, not for the first time, that maybe they’re both terrible at this.

A laugh bubbles up in his throat, but it dies just as quickly. Because Felix swings a leg over him, raising himself up on his well-crafted thighs. He takes Dimitri’s cock in his oily hands, rubbing over the tip one last time. Positioning it.

Dimitri’s breath goes still in his lungs. Heart pounding, his palms slick with sweat as he grabs at Felix’s hips, steadying him. He wants to ask if Felix is ready – nonsensical, given that Felix is the one leading this, but he’s not sure what to do with himself. Caught between panic and desire.

This is about to happen. It’s really _happening_. The tip of his monstrous cock is pressing against Felix’s hole.

Felix exhales. And he sinks down.

It should be impossible. It isn’t.

The head of Dimitri’s cock sinks inside him. And Felix inches down, and down, and down. Brow furrowed in concentration, lip caught between his teeth, his stomach muscles tensing and flexing with the exertion.

It’s… it’s tight. _So tight_ , hot and tight and –

Stop thinking about it. Stop it. Dimitri draws in a shuddering breath, fighting off the coil already building in his abdomen.

He focuses on his hands around Felix’s hips instead. Stares at where his fingertips dig into Felix’s skin, feeling a little wild, a little mad. Trying desperately not to think of the incredible, mind-blowing tightness around his cock as Felix sinks down onto it, bit by bit, increment by impossible increment.

It’s so good. It’s so _good_. Dimitri’s inside him, and he’s not sure if it’s the pressure on his cock or the psychological thrill of it, but already his belly is tightening alarmingly fast.

He takes in a shuddering breath. Focuses on Felix’s face, his furrowed brows and bowed head. Tries to distract himself because they’ve only just begun, and he already feels right on the brink.

Calm down. Calm down. He forces himself to breathe. Strokes Felix’s skin as Felix works his way down.

“All right?” Dimitri asks.

Felix bites his lip. Nods, but the tension in his face betrays him. Cools Dimitri off quicker than anything else ever could.

“Felix,” he starts, but Felix shakes his head. Shudders out a breath, and sinks lower. “You don’t have to–”

“I want it,” Felix gasps, and pulls Dimitri up short. Felix moans, adjusts himself, digging his hands into Dimitri’s chest for more leverage. Sinks down again with a punched-out noise Dimitri’s never heard from him.

His hands flutter around Felix’s sides, his hips, his belly. Unsure how to help. Steadying him, but doing little more than that.

“You’re – so – _big_ ,” Felix groans, and with a heaving shudder he slams himself the rest of the way down.

Felix’s head is tipped back, mouth open and eyes glazed over, and he looks almost like he’s having a religious experience. He’s panting, gripping so hard at Dimitri’s chest that his nails dig painfully into Dimitri’s skin, but the pain is a welcome distraction. The feeling of bottoming out is so overwhelming that Dimitri is gasping, head shoved back into his pillows, every ounce of energy exerted into just staying still, not moving, not grabbing Felix by the hips and fucking up into him as every instinct is screaming at him to do.

He waits. Lets them both breathe. Awed, stunned.

Dimitri’s massive, monstrous cock is inside Felix. It fit.

Slowly, Felix starts to move. Little motions at first, bare rocks of his hips as he tries to adjust. It’s difficult – he can’t seem to find the angle he wants. Grabs Dimitri’s hands and locks them in place at his waist.

“Hold – me,” he grinds out. He can barely speak. Dimitri has never seen him like this, and right now he’s not sure whether to be aroused or concerned. Settles for a bit of both. “Like – like this.”

Dimitri holds onto him, and it helps a bit. Felix rises up higher. Falls back onto Dimitri’s cock, letting out a guttural noise. Does it again, but his whole body is trembling with the strain of it, and he seems to be unravelling. 

He tries again. Manages to rise up a bare inch before he sinks back down.

“ _Fuck_. I can’t – I can’t –” Felix moans. His thighs are trembling violently, his body tightening and clenching in great heaves.

Felix isn’t coping. Dimitri holds him tight by the waist, grateful for his strength as he starts to ease him, slow and gentle, off his cock. He needs to get it out of Felix as quick as he can. See if he’s all right, see if he’s hurting. That’s all that matters.

The sadness, the shame, the disappointment. The knowledge that he's hurt the man he loves. The inadequacy, deep in Dimitri's core. He can deal with those later.

Felix’s eyes snap open. Wet with tears, but the expression on his face is very familiar. “No – _stop_ ,” he snaps.

He still can’t talk in full sentences, is still gasping for breath. But Dimitri pauses at the command. Concerned and confused in equal measure, his ridiculous cock still hard inside of Felix despite it all.

“What, then?” Dimitri says. Cautious to move. Cautious to do anything that might hurt Felix.

Felix bares his teeth at him. Groans and rocks in place, though Dimitri’s firm grip on his waist doesn’t allow him to fall far, and he slaps a hand onto Dimitri’s chest.

“Get – I can’t – my legs are giving out. You’re so–” Felix tugs Dimitri’s hands away. Attempts another halting, shuddering slide back down onto Dimitri’s cock. But Felix’s groan is one of frustration. “Just _fuck_ me.”

He – what?

Dimitri freezes. Heart pounding in his ears, cock throbbing before he tamps the spike of heat down. “Ah, Felix…”

Felix glares down at him, impact lessened by the wild look in his eyes and the flush on his cheeks. Panting, shaking, grinding his hips in a constant, serpentine motion. “I can’t – move – enough. Flip us over – and _fuck me_.”

He's not in pain, then, doesn't need to stop. Not in pain... Dimitri should still say no. Felix is struggling with his size enough as they are, let alone if Felix loses control of the action.

But Dimitri’s ears are ringing. And he wants, he wants so _badly_. His cock is aching inside of Felix but it’s not enough, never _enough._

 _Fuck me. Flip us over, and fuck me_.

Dimitri isn't hurting him. Felix _wants_ it.

Dimitri is panting, reaching thoughtlessly for Felix. Stroking his hands down those muscular, trembling thighs. Staring at Felix’s cock, still hard, flushed and leaking pre-come. Aroused, moaning, even as he’s clenching and shuddering around Dimitri’s enormous cock. Like something of out Dimitri’s deepest fantasies. Like a man who could actually _take it_.

Dimitri flips them over. Drops Felix onto his back on the bed, pushing his legs up near his chest.

“ _Yes_ , like that, like that,” Felix groans, pupils blown, cock hard and aching between them.

So Dimitri pulls out. Slowly, inch by inch by inch. Pushes back in again and – oh, this _is_ better. So much better. He can move like this. Slide in and out, letting Felix _feel_ him, letting him feel every inch of Dimitri’s huge, swollen cock.

Another check of Felix. Felix, who sees him looking and starts chanting _yes, yes, yes_ incessantly, eyes rolling back into his head when Dimitri thrusts in deep, and it’s all the assurance Dimitri needs.

He fucks him. Just like Felix asked. Just like Dimitri has always wanted to.

The clutch of Felix’s body is so overwhelmingly, impossibly tight. Dimitri’s senses narrow, focusing on the harshness of his own breath, the slap of skin on skin, the vision of Felix on his back underneath him, body jolting up the bed with every thrust but mouth asking for more, more, more.

Slick, tight, hot. Felix’s hole clenching and fluttering around him as Dimitri drives in, slow at first, quickly building momentum. It’s so good it’s almost unbearable. The tightness in Dimitri’s belly is coiling rapidly, every exquisitely long thrust of his cock threatening to push him over the edge, but he can’t come yet, can’t stop, doesn’t want it to be over.

He focuses on the rhythm. Rolls his hips, uses every inch of his stupid, massive cock, giving Felix all of it. And Felix is clawing at his arms, his shoulders, his chest. Moaning, whining, _yes yes yes_ , and Dimitri hauls him back down the bed by his thighs and fucks him harder.

Dimitri groans. Baring his teeth and bowing his head, re-adjusting his grip on Felix’s thighs once again, _anything_ to distract him from how close he is, how good this feels, how good Felix looks underneath him –

"I can't,” Felix pants brokenly. “I _can’t_. I need to–”

He’s reaching between them and grabbing urgently at his cock. Stripping it in rough, sharp tugs like he’s desperate for it, like he can’t take it anymore.

His hole clenches, so tight it punches the breath from Dimitri's lungs. His legs spasm in Dimitri’s grip, and Dimitri has a second to witness Felix's mouth open in something like shock.

Then Felix is thrashing beneath him, shuddering and shaking. _Coming_ , his cock spattering across his chest, his mouth open and his throat bared as he slams his head back into the pillow in a silent scream, and Dimitri is so shocked by the violence of it that he goes still to watch. Felix _writhes_. Out of control, coming so hard it looks almost painful, his muscles jerking, the tendons in his neck straining, his hole clenching so tight Dimitri can't hope to move.

Felix moans. Hand slowing on his cock, covered in his own seed, wringing the last of his orgasm out of him. Still shuddering, still twitching through the last moments, a desperate, broken noise leaving him as he starts to come down.

Dimitri breaks.

The tension in his own groin snaps. His hips jerk forward, once, twice, orgasm hitting him like a tidal wave. He thinks he might be crying out. Can’t do anything but squeeze his eye shut and ride out the brutal pulses of it, shaking and shuddering as his cock spurts and spurts and spurts.

It’s so good. It’s so good he could scream, but he can’t manage the sound. He just holds on and rides it out as best he can.

It feels endless. But eventually, his helpless shuddering slows, the rhythmic pulses of his pleasure easing. He slumps over Felix, barely catching himself on his hands before he collapses on top of him. Dimitri’s hips are still twitching out of his control, but his cock finally makes the switch from near-agonising pleasure to oversensitivity, and bit by bit he goes still.

He has the good sense to pull out. He feels empty, wrung out, every muscle in his body relaxing into hazy, near-drunken bliss. He wobbles to the side, not wanting to crush Felix, but Felix isn’t having it. He tugs Dimitri down on top of him, despite his weight. 

Dimitri goes. Buries his face in the side of Felix’s neck, and they’re both sweaty but he couldn’t care less. He pants. Breathes Felix in, pressing a sloppy attempt at a kiss to his shoulder.

They’re quiet for a while. Breathing together. Dimitri can’t hold his own weight, but Felix doesn’t seem to care. His hands are on Dimitri’s back, and Dimitri can feel his heartbeat when he presses his lips to Felix’s throat again. Rabbit-quick, gradually slowing as they lie tangled together.

Dimitri can feel it. The beat of his heart. Shuts his eye, and feels Felix’s heart beat, and beat, and beat.

He thinks he might doze off for a moment. Comes back to the feeling of Felix's hand stroking down his spine, Felix's hum vibrating in Dimitri's own chest. Dimitri’s a big man, in more ways than one. His weight can’t be comfortable. But Dimitri needs this, needs the feel of Felix, warm and solid and there. And maybe Felix needs him too.

Dimitri raises his head to kiss him, when he can finally manage it. Kisses him long and lingering. Props himself up on his unsteady arms only so he can admire how Felix looks now, hair loose about the pillows, skin flushed, eyes every bit as dazed as Dimitri feels himself.

Dimitri has never seen Felix come like that. Judging by the shock on Felix's face as it happened, Dimitri doesn't think _Felix_ knew he could come like that.

Dimitri did that. Dimitri. Maybe his massive cock isn’t so useless after all?

He doesn't have long to feel pleased with himself. As if sensing his self-satisfaction, Felix raises an arm. Flicks Dimitri in the nose, because he’s like that sometimes.

Dimitri doesn’t mind. Felix gets overwhelmed by different things than he does. Lets Dimitri hold him like this anyway.

It takes Felix a gratifyingly long time, though, to pin Dimitri with one of his customary stares. He points his finger, decisively and judgmentally, in front of Dimitri’s face.

“See?” he says, and despite his sleepy, satisfied blinks, he musters up a smirk. “Told you I'd do it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Me: ohhh I am so embarrassed!!! I am so shy!!! I cannot even LOOK at the kinkmeme for I am blushing
> 
> Also me: so Dimitri had the biggest peen in all the land, just an absolutely massive dong, like a bahonkingly huge wiener of gargantuan proportions, just a great big


End file.
